


My God In Latex

by KoreArabin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bondage, Consensual Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Bar, Implied Torture, Latex, Leather Kink, M/M, Porn Video
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreArabin/pseuds/KoreArabin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim fancies a bit of kinky rough.  With latex.  Seb is only too happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Call Me Sir

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely, generous, totally smashing [exbex](http://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex/)

Sebastian can pinpoint the exact date on which when he and Jim first discovered their mutual love of rubber. They've always both been turned on by leather; well, by the shiny black leather gloves they don when it's time to fuck the other over, indulging in a spot of interrogation and torture play. 

Jim's moans of arousal when Seb forcibly strips him and ties him down, making him watch Seb slowly pull the tight black gloves down over his long, elegant sniper's hands, followed by the whimpers of pain as he subjects him to an extremely thorough, extremely intimate, extremely _invasive_ body search, shoot straight down to Seb's groin, his cock rock hard and leaking against the crotch of his trousers.

But, anyway, back to rubber. Their newest, favouritest, game was sparked by one of their sporadic forays into the seedier parts of Soho. For a man who could summon any number of pantechnicons full of sex gear to be personally delivered to him at the press of a button, Jim prefers a more hands on approach, slipping out at night through the dark backstreets, usually looking distinctly rent-boyish in close-fitting, ripped jeans and a thin, too tight t-shirt that shows off his pierced nipples, his hair gelled up and spiky in a way that makes him look very young and very vulnerable.

He _adores_ visiting the nastiest, dirtiest backstreet gay clubs, letting the men come on to him, attracted by his slim, tight arse and his boyish good looks. And he likes having Seb let them know in no uncertain terms that Jim is _his_ property, his _bitch_ , for the purposes of Jim's little game, anyway, french-kissing him as filthily as possible and rubbing Seb's crotch suggestively whilst the disappointed johns look on, their eyes dark and hungry. 

It was in one of the many sex shops catering particularly for the gay community that Seb suddenly realised that Jim was standing stock still, transfixed by a rack of sex dvds. The one that had caught his eye was a German import, apparently, and the cover showed a well-muscled, oiled up man in gleaming latex shorts and a peaked military cap, holding a leather strap and a tangle of cuffs and chains. "Oh God, Sebby. You would look absolutely fucking delicious like that. You could do some very bad, nasty things to Daddy dressed like that. I _want_ it."

Jim had then dragged Seb outside and allowed him to fuck him very hard and very fast against the wall of the dark alleyway, impaled on Seb's cock, his legs wrapped tightly around his waist. When they'd got home, Jim had had Seb lick his come-filled arse nice and clean, before giving an apparently insatiable Jim two very long and very enjoyable blow jobs, one after the other. 

And Seb enjoyed that very, very much. So knowing what Jim wants, he's damned well going to ensure that Jim gets it. Always. Which is why Seb came in early this evening from the gym, to prepare the flat, and why he is now standing surveying himself in the mirrored wall of the bedroom, his pumped up muscles gleaming with oil, his heavy Army boots polished and laced up tightly, and his crotch and arse beautifully outlined by the gleaming, skin tight, black latex shorts he's wearing. He buttons the shiny new gloves he bought for this very evening, and adjusts the black leather cap so that it shades his eyes. With a last quick sweep around the bedroom, he wanders through to the lounge, sits in the leather recliner, takes a swig of his beer, and waits.

He hears Jim come in, kick off his shoes and place his keys on the hall table. "Seb, are you cooking tonight, because I am...." Whatever Jim was about to say trails off in mid-sentence as he drinks in the sight of his lover sitting back in the chair, legs spread and gloved hand tapping a riding crop lightly against his heavy boot.

"Jesus, Sebastian." 

"Tonight, _slut_ , I am not Sebastian or Seb. Tonight, you address me as Sir. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sebas- I mean, Sir."

To have the fearsome criminal mastermind Jim Moriarty practically salivating, whispering the honorific as if he's about to cream his trousers, is almost enough to have Seb pinning him up against the wall, licking and kissing and biting as he strips Jim of his clothes as fast as he possibly can. But that isn't what Jim wants tonight, and it isn't what Seb wants to do to Jim right now, either.

"Strip."

Jim removes his clothing as quickly as he can, taking care not to crease the expensive garments. For all his excitement, his desire to be taken strictly in hand by the latex-clad _god_ in front of him, his meticulousness is second nature, and Seb has to stifle a fond grin. Once he's totally naked, Seb beckons him over. "Here. Kneel between my legs. Spread your thighs. Hands behind your back."

Seb runs the leather tip of the riding crop teasingly along the underside of Jim's cock, rubbing lightly at the sensitive head, smearing the precome that's already beading there, before moving it lower and giving the base of Jim's ball sack a couple of sharp taps. Jim gasps and bucks a little, but his cock remains rock hard and dripping between his spread thighs. 

"Tonight, I am going to do all those nasty, dirty things that you fantasise about having done to you. All the darkest, dirtiest, filthiest things you've ever moaned to yourself over, I'll do to you. I am going to make you moan, and cry, and scream, and beg - possibly all at the same time - and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you beg me to let you come afterwards. How does that sound to you, slut?" 

Jim exhales, shakily. "Very good, Sir. Please, Sir."

"Please Sir, what?"

"Make me do all those things. Sir, please."

"You can start by cleaning these shorts for me. I want them sucked and licked and polished clean - use your slut mouth - no hands allowed. If you make a really good job of it, I'll let you lick the inside clean too, later, after I've come in them."

Jim presses his face to Seb's gleaming, bulging crotch. The smell of the latex and the feeling of Seb's hard cock and balls, hot and firm but yielding slightly as he sucks and tongues at the fabric, is utter sensory heaven. "More. I want to hear you."

Jim slurps noisily at the latex, moaning gently, rubbing his nose and face against the saliva slicked material. Seb shifts forwards in the chair and Jim sucks and licks lower, behind the bulge of Seb's balls and into the crease where the latex outlines his buttocks. "Mmmm - more there. I want these gleaming. And it'll be good practice for when I sit on your slutty, come-stained face later, and let you lick me out."

Seb smiles and leans his head back against his arms, crossed behind his head, watching the dark head bobbing between his legs as Jim slurps and suckles. Oh yes, Jim is most _definitely_ going to be getting it tonight.


	2. Boi Slut

"Very good," growls Sebastian. "I like a _boi slut_ who knows how to use his mouth properly. I'll be putting that mouth to better use later. Now stand up and let me have a look at you."

Jim stands, eyes cast down, his cock standing up hard and leaking between his thighs. Seb circles him, crowding into his space, tall, solid and intimidating in his heavy boots and cap. He has to suppress a gasp of surprise as he steps behind Jim; there, nestled snugly between Jim's buttocks is the end of a thick black plug. Seb presses the end in and rotates it slowly, making Jim whimper.

"You filthy little fucker. How long've you been wearing that for, slut?"

Jim looks at him coyly from under his dark lashes. "All day," he purrs, licking his lips suggestively, "I had an inkling that you might be wanting to play tonight, _Sir_ , and I wanted to be ready for you. I've been fucking myself on it all day, thinking about it."

Seb half wants to laugh at what a kinky little deviant _fuck_ his boss is; the thought of him managing his criminal empire with his usual dispassionate genius, frightening the living fuck out of clients and enemies alike, whilst humping himself desperately on a _butt plug_ all day is just too much. But Seb is really up for an evening of topping Jim in Jim's current kinky headspace and God knows the opportunity doesn't come along all that often. So rather than softening into amusement he schools his features to become hard and aloof.

"I see. Did you touch yourself, too, fuckslut?" At this, Seb grasps Jim's chin and forces head head up and back. Jim's eyes widen, first in surprise, and then in pain as Seb continues to twist his head up.

"No, Sir," he gasps.

"So, tell me, who _exactly_ gave you permission to plug up your hole and fuck yourself like a bitch in heat? And creaming your pants too whilst you were doing it, I imagine? Who. Gave. You. Permission. To. Play. With. Your. Slutty. Dirty. Hole?"

Jim actually looks uncertain and afraid (amazingly, thinks Seb) at this unforeseen turn in the game. Seb releases Jim's chin, pulls his arm up behind his back and slaps him hard across the face, the thwack of the leather glove loud and sharp. "I asked you a question, _cunt_. Well?"

"No-one. Sir."

"You don't touch yourself or play with yourself or fucking _look_ at yourself without my say so, fuckslut. All of _this_ belongs to me, and if you touch without permission you get punished, yes?"

"Yes, Sir." Jim's voice is a whisper, but Seb notices with satisfaction that his cock is straining up just as hard as before, still leaking copiously.

"Bedroom, now." Seb hits Jim hard across the buttocks with the crop, continuing the beating until they're in the bedroom. "On the bed, on your back."

Seb hears Jim swallow a gasp and a squeak of arousal as he surveys their bed, spread with the thick, gleaming black latex cover. Seb backhands him across the face, sending him reeling backwards on to the bed. "I _said_ on the bed." He climbs over Jim, straddling his prone form, Jim's cock between his spread legs, his erection smearing precome over the latex shorts. Seb reaches up and makes short work of buckling Jim's wrists into the leather cuffs that are _always_ dangling attached to the head of _their_ bed. 

He leans forward, and kisses Jim savagely, his palm over Jim's nose, his tongue raping Jim's throat in a wet mass of saliva-choked gasps, not caring as his teeth press hard against Jim's mouth, cutting and bruising his lips. Jim begins to struggle as his breath is cut off, drowned in Seb's hot, violent kiss as he plunders Jim's mouth with his tongue. Seb allows him to take a quick, choking breath before kissing him again, this time the salt-sweet, copper tang of blood mixing with the heady, lemonbalm taste of Jim.

Jim gasps as Seb pulls away, running his leather covered hands down over Jim's neck, teasing at his pulse points, over his nipples, which are standing up hard and flushed red with his arousal, the silver rings piercing them shining brightly in contrast. Seb can't resist dipping his tongue into the hollow of Jim's throat, just below the Adam's apple, licking at the perspiration pooling there, tasting flesh, salt, a hint of shave balm; the unique masculine scent of Jim. 

He licks down to Jim's armpits - God, is there anything of this man that doesn't smell so fucking good, so fucking delicious - even his fucking _sweat_? Seb laps at it, Jim wriggling, ticklish, and Seb decides to spare him _that_ particular torture - for now, at least.

He licks and sucks at the nipples, biting gently, just teasing, pulling at the rings with his tongue. Jim twists underneath him, moaning at the stimulation, his rock hard cock bobbing against Seb's rubber-covered crotch as he kneels over him. Seb wriggles back, bending Jim's legs up and back so that he's kneeling between them. Seb grasps Jim's calves, one in each hand, and pushes them up and apart, lifting Jim's arse up off the the cover with a wet sound, Jim's back sticking to the thick rubber.

Seb props Jim's knees over his shoulders and reaches around to the top and side of the bed, where he attached the leather thigh restraints earlier. He loops the first around Jim's left thigh, tightening the strap so that Jim's leg is held up and to the side, and then does the same with the one on the other side, adjusting both until his thighs are held securely, restrained and wide apart. Seb props a latex cushion, also cunningly set by earlier for this very scenario, under Jim's backside, and settles back to admire the view.

The view of his Boss, arms cuffed to the top of the bed, thighs restrained and splayed wide open, his crotch and arse spread out, vulnerable, and all for Seb's pleasure.


	3. Preparation

Seb leans in and tongues wetly around Jim's plug-stretched hole. Jim doesn't taste exactly clean - he tastes bitter, and heavy, and dark - he tastes just like a man's arsehole _does_ taste after a day of work and being fucked with a plug. But then, cleanliness when rimming has never been a problem for either of them; the deep, secret tastes and scents that they, and only they, get to sample, get to savour, are utterly sublime - one of the most private, most personal aspects of a person's being - other than fucking - are revealed. _Or disembowelment_ , I suppose, Seb considers fleetingly as an aside. Yeah, drenching oneself in someone's warm blood and bile and viscera _is_ pretty _intimate_. But not sexy. Apart from the blood, maybe. And the violence, and the sheer fucking screaming rush of ending someone's existence so brutally. Hmmmm. Whatever. Sebastian'll settle for the fact that it's not sex-on-a-fucking-stick in the way Jim Moriarty's arse currently is. 

So, reveries aside, if Jim has a dirty arse, Seb'll slurp away at it until it's clean, and revel in it.

And, now, Jim's arse is dripping with Seb's saliva. "Oh, slut, you are _so_ wet. That little plug can't possibly be filling you up properly, can it? I have something that will fill you right up - would you like that, darling?"

Seb removes the plug partly from Jim's arse, leaving the thickest part of it stretching his sphincter, nudging it slightly back and forwards. Jim moans and twists in his restraints, wanting to fuck himself on _something_ , but finding no friction against his cock or prostate to get off on. Seb pulls the plug out completely, and rubs it over Jim's face, the saliva and the lube Jim'd used and anything else from his arse smeared all over him. "Oh, _slut_ , that'll take a bit of cleaning up. How fortunate that you have such a talented tongue."

Seb rifles through their bedside table drawer, looking for the toys he stashed there earlier. Aha. He pulls out the - frankly - _huge_ dildo he's bought specially to use on Jim's tender little arse. It's quite breath-taking, really, Seb thinks, covered with rows of studs that get larger as one works down its length, with a number of different vibration settings, from lightest prostate massage to full-on-knee-trembling fuck-me-til-I-scream reverberation. Even to Seb's pretty damned experienced eyes, it's a fucking monster, and he simply cannot wait to have it right up inside Jim's tight little slut arsehole. The other toy is a far more simple affair, but tried and tested and sure to get Jim writhing and begging. Mmmmm.

Seb straddles Jim's chest, rubber-covered arse blocking Jim's view of what he intends to do. Jim's cock is still rock hard, precome dribbling out on to his belly. Seb slicks the slippery fluid over the head and down around the shaft, Jim groaning and twisting against him, trying desperately to maintain enough friction to get himself off. "Uh, uh, uh." Seb moves his hand away and Jim growls. "This is about what I choose to give you, tonight, remember. So you be a good fuckslut and you lie back and you take it."

Jim feels something slide around behind his scrotum, grazing his perineum and making him buck slightly, gasping. Then there's pressure - not unpleasant - but insistent, up and over his balls and around his cock. There are a couple of soft 'clicks' and he then realises that Sebastian has locked him into a cock strap. 

"Sebastian -"

Seb slaps his cock, hard enough to make him jump, and grasps his balls, rolling them between his gloved fingers firmly enough to make Jim groan and try to pull away. Seb waits, looking at Jim expectantly.

" _Sir_. Please. It's so tight, Sir, _please_."

"I don't think so; I think that'll do just fine. I need to keep a desperate little slut like you under control. Otherwise you'll be forgetting yourself and trying to come, and you don't get to come unless I think you deserve it."

-O-

Jim's already stretched out, from his day being plugged, but he's going to need to be extremely well lubricated to take the monster dildo. Seb removes his gloves, coats his hands and fingers with lube, and begins to massage Jim's swollen arsehole. "I am going to fill you up, my love, stretch you out until you cannot imagine taking any more, and then I am going to fuck you, nice and slowly, really take my time over it, make you moan for me because you know how much I love to hear you moaning. Bring you near to the edge, again and again, but not let you come until _I_ want you to come. I want you gasping, I want you begging, I want you _sobbing_ for me to let you come and, if you do gasp and beg and sob well enough, I _may_ let you come. Do you understand, fuckslut?"

Judging by Jim's strangled half moan/half whimper of assent, Sebastian thinks that Jim understands only all too well.


	4. Supper's Ready

"This is a turn up, isn't it, Jimmy? I bet you never thought you'd get a grease gun up your arse, eh, sweetheart?" 

Seb's never been particularly bothered about the gender of his partners; warm, hot, holes to fill are what he's always been about, and he's been pretty much 100% top, only receiving on a handful of occasions, from particularly well-built, ripped, guys who'd brought out his bottomy, submissive, leanings.

But, with Jim, he's embraced his masochism, being pretty much the bottom to Jim's top, the fuckee to Jim's fucker (and - oh, in _so_ many more ways than one is _that_ a fact, the little fucker), the majority of the time. And - why? His taste in men has always run to tall, muscular, men like himself. Jim's a fucking runt in comparison; slight, slim-hipped, no real arse to speak of, and _soft_ around the midriff, something he disguises rather successfully with his well-cut suits but, once stripped of his armour, he's really only - well - pretty small and pretty pale and pretty weedy.

So why it should be that Seb's cock twitches helplessly and swells at even the slightest _hint_ of violence or dominance from the dark-eyed little shit of an Irish _colleen_ is something of a mystery. Or why Seb now seeks out, on a far too regular basis, man-on-man BDSM internet porn, and wanks himself stupid to scenes of guys being restrained, tortured and fucked by other guys (the darker-haired and darker-eyed the better). 

Or why he thought a grease gun would be such a fucking amazing thing to acquire for this evening's games, and to fill it with about a pint or more of lube.

Seb shakes his head - doh - fucking _obvious_ , Sebastian. To fill the little fucker's arse to brimming point with slick, luscious lube. To let him know that without a shadow of a doubt he's going to be fucked into the middle of next week. To actually be able to get that monster dildo into Jim's delicate little arse without incurring a trip to A&E at some point in the evening's proceedings.

And, if Seb is honest with himself, in the rather fervent hope that Jim will return the compliment at some point. But - now - it's time to prep little Jimmy's bottom up for the fucking of its oblate little life.

Sebastian brandishes the grease gun with something of a flourish in front of Jim's face, tapping the lever slightly to release a small squirt of lube. Jim cranes his head up, eyes wide with apprehension, following Seb's movements minutely, letting out a hiss as the nozzle of the gun enters him. Seb takes his time working it into Jim's arse; even though he's pretty stretched and loose it's always so much _fun_ to ensure that one's partner really appreciates the efforts one's gone to to feel themselves really being opened up.

Once he's satisfied that the nozzle is deeply, _intimately_ , lodged inside Jim's arse, Seb begins to pump him full of the lube. The quite appalling squelches and sucking sounds as the lube backs up and begins to trickle back out of Jim's hole are only complimented, Seb reckons, by his moans and mewls of mortification and, presumably, some pain as the lube has a similar cramping effect to the beginnings of an enema. 

Once the grease gun cartridge is empty, Sebastian retrieves the dildo from where he's concealed it beside the bed. Jim's sudden struggles as he sees the monster appear between his legs are really rather something to savour, Seb thinks. "No, Sir! No fucking way is _that_ going inside me!"

Sebastian smiles sweetly at his bound Boss. "I think you'll find it is, sweetcheeks, so just you lie back and take what I choose to give you."

He works the tip in, gently; although the thing is going to stretch Jim out to bursting point, he doesn't want to spoil things by splitting his tight sphincter too soon. Jim writhes in the restraints, his thighs held up and wide apart, unable to prevent his sniper working the monster slowly, _inexorably_ , into his anus. Seb pauses as each row of studs breaches the pink, stretched, muscle with a dull _plop_ , giving Jim a moment of respite before the next row forces him further open.

Once it's in about two-thirds of the way, Sebastian decides it's time for a little self-indulgence. God knows he gets little enough of that in their usual dark, sadomasochistic, sexual games, but - fuck it - he's going to get himself off, and humiliate Jim in the process, and there's nothing at all his strapped down Boss can do about it.

Sebastian starts the vibrator up, on the lowest setting, immediately eliciting more moans and writhing and bucking from Jim, and kneels close between Jim's spread thighs, the bulge of his latex-covered, erect, cock pressed against the base of the dildo. The vibrations immediately pulse through his scrotum, straight down to where the rubber hugs the crease of his arse, utterly delicious. He turns the vibration up, setting Jim off again even more vigourously, but the sensation is now something Seb can definitely work with. He rubs his latex-clad prick up and down repeatedly against the base, finding a place where it hums against his cockhead, sending him wild, a few squeezes of his trapped length and balls pushing him over the edge into coming explosively in the rubber shorts, moaning as the constriction almost doesn't allow the ejaculate to spurt from his over-engorged cock.

He slumps over Jim, who's still twisting ineffectually against his bonds and whining in frustration, turning the vibrator off as his cock still pulses rope after rope of rope of hot come inside the tight shorts. With a thrust of his hips, he forces the dildo deeper into Jim's arse, another _plop_ loud over Seb's panting and Jim's mewls.

Sebastian peels the come-splattered shorts off, laying them on the rubber sheet beside Jim's head. "Something for you, after we've finished here. I thought a cold supper would suffice tonight, darling."

Jim stares up at him, eyes dark, flat, but blown with arousal at the prospect of his utter humiliation later at licking up cold come from the rubber shorts. Sebastian leans down low beside Jim's ear, breath ghosting over the neat pink shell as he whispers, "Yes. You will. I'll make you do it. No getting out of it, love. 'Jimmy's cold suppers' - sounds like a great pitch for a TV programme, don't you think?

But, oh, that was so _fucking_ good. Now it's only fair I let you come, slutlet, after you've taken all of this fucker." Seb works the last third of the monster into Jim, who's now given up on writhing and moaning to simply shudder and gasp, eyes screwed shut, sweat dripping around his face as he processes the pain of total penetration. Once it's buried totally inside Jim's - by now - quite prodigiously swollen and inflamed hole, Seb starts up the vibrator again, flicking up and down through the settings as Jim once again twists and screams in his restraints.

"Do you want to come, Jimmy?"

"Fuck, yes, yes - _please_ , Sir!"

"Sure, sweetcheeks?"

" _Pleeeease!_ "

For a moment, Sebastian wonders whether it is actually possible for the male sex organ to explode, as Jim's cock turns the most vividly dark shade of purple he's ever seen, Jim screaming hoarsely as his super-swollen prick fucks the air. With only the slightest manipulation of the base of the dildo, and the unclipping of the cock-strap, Jim screams again, this time in ecstacy, a profound ululation of release, his come shooting quite prodigiously over his belly, chest and even hitting his chin, his whole body writhing electrically as climax after climax rips through him.

Only when Jim is at last totally spent, lying still and exhausted, eyes shut, lips slightly apart, does Sebastian move up over him again, working the monster out of his limp body before releasing the restraints and claiming Jim's mouth in a passionate, yet tender, embrace.

"You enjoyed that, I take it, slutlet?"

"Ah, fuck. Yeah. Fuck."

"Well, you relax for a bit, love. I'll run a bath and clean you up."

"Mmmmmmm."

"And, don't forget - supper'll be ready for you once you're done."


End file.
